


Urge

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: During Canon, Established Relationship, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-16
Updated: 2006-09-16
Packaged: 2018-09-03 08:22:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8704876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Sex on the hood of the Impala.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

URGE  
By Shorts

The engine ticked as it cooled, offering Sam its warmth as he sprawled across the hood on his chest and stomach. He rested his cheek against the sleek metal, his hands flat against the smooth warmth, bracing himself as Dean pressed close, sliding smoothly inside him. The slow burn of being stretched had him squeezing his eyes tightly closed. He felt surrounded by the very essence of his brother. The Impala radiated the same strength as Dean, supporting him as he surrendered to the undeniable urge that consumed him.

“Dean,” he gasped, trying to push back, to take Dean deeper inside him. He wanted to feel, to know, that Dean needed this as much as he did.

“Sshh,” whispered Dean. “It’s okay.”

Sam turned his head, resting his forehead against the hood. Chills ran down his back at the long, slow slide as Dean withdrew.

“Damn, but you’re tight,” groaned Dean, sliding back inside, resting his weight on top of him. He reached up, gripping Sam’s shoulder as he steadied him on the car.

“Just do it,” said Sam through gritted teeth at the slow, torturous retreat of Dean’s cock.

“Don’t wanna hurt you, Sam,” hissed Dean, slowly encouraging Sam to accept him without resistance.

“You’re not,” insisted Sam, unable to bank back the urge that was raging through him. The urge to have Dean lose control, to shatter his almost impenetrable restraint and give him exactly what he wanted. “C’mon, Dean . . . don’t drag this out. Fuck me.”

“Damnit, Sam. One of these times I’m gonna really hurt you,” groaned Dean, wrapping his arm tight around Sam’s waist to hold him as he started to thrust harder and faster.

Sam shuddered as every nerve ending fired as Dean struck his sweet spot, mixing pain with pleasure. His breath caught as strong fingers encircled him and he shifted, giving Dean room to stroke him as he rocked in time to the strong thrusts that impaled him. The familiar flutter built in his stomach, over shadowing the ache and burn of Dean pounding into him.

“Shit, Sam,” choked Dean, as he tried to cushion Sam’s vulnerable cock from slamming into the unforgiving metal.

The feel of Dean’s knuckles scraping the Impala with each stroke and the unrelenting slide of Dean’s cock had Sam’s entire body clenching and arching as he came. His breath fogged his reflection in the black paint as his throat strained to call Dean’s name.

Dean’s thrusts became erratic as he continued to buck his hips, striving to ride out Sam’s orgasm before succumbing to his own climax.

Collapsing boneless on the Impala’s hood, Sam achieved what he needed. Enjoying the moment when Dean lost it and repeated his name over and over as he came deep inside him.

Long moments passed before Dean stirred and placed a soft kiss on the back of his neck before easing himself off. “We need to stop in the next town. I don’t think you’ll be able to sit for any length of time right now,” said Dean, fastening his jeans, unable to hide the flicker of guilt at his roughness, despite his attempts to take it easy.

Sam sighed, straightening up and pulling up his jeans and smoothing out his hoody. He opened the passenger door and slipped inside, biting his tongue to stop the hiss as he settled into the seat. The sweet throb kept time with his heartbeat, filling and reminding him of Dean nestled deep inside him. This was what he craved, the evidence that Dean could never deny him. That underneath the gruff, sarcastic shell, Dean needed him just as much as he needed him.


End file.
